


No Good at Goodbyes

by Bubbly88Tay



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Bloody, F/M, Gen, Kidnapping, Whump, beaten, bruised, electrocuted, hurt wyatt, just a bunch of whump, stabbed, torture for information
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 22:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13913445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbly88Tay/pseuds/Bubbly88Tay
Summary: Wyatt told Lucy not to say a word. That no matter what, she couldn't say anything. He didn't say anything about screaming and shouting though.Wyatt and Lucy are kidnapped for information. Now it's up to Agent Christopher to find them before it's too late.





	No Good at Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> So, way, way, way, way back in December, I was given a prompt for an exchange. Now here I am, 3 months later with a monster sized oneshot for one of the most patient people I know. Goesaroundcomesaroundwhat, thank you for your patience, and I sincerely hope this was worth the time you spent waiting for it. 
> 
> The prompt was - “You won’t try that again, will you?”
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Lucy had spent nearly an hour sitting alone on her couch in a quiet and empty apartment before she decided that she couldn’t bear the loneliness – the  _ silence _ – that had cocooned her. It had suffocated her in its grasps. By the time she had closed the apartment door behind her and locked it, she felt like she could barely breathe.

 

Growing up, Lucy had never been able to keep a secret very long and had believed that honesty was always better than a lie and her mother had figured that out early on. With nearly seven years between herself and Amy, quite a few scuffles had erupted due to Lucy’s honesty.

 

When Amy had started dating one of her boyfriends, she’d asked her older sister:

 

_ “Lucy, do you think he would like me in this dress or this skirt better?” _

 

_ “Honestly, he’d probably like you better naked.” _

 

Or the inevitable question she asked every year: 

 

_ “Lucy, what did you get me for my birthday?”  _

 

_ “I can’t tell you that, it’s a surprise.”  _

 

_ “So, you’re going to lie to me?”  _

 

_ “I got you that art set you had been looking at.” _

 

The biggest one had come the Christmas when Amy was six:

 

_ “Lucy,” she’d had asked while Lucy had been in a particularly bad mood, “when will Santa be here?”  _

 

_ “He won’t. He’s not real.” _

 

Her entire childhood had been Lucy trying to keep a secret and failing. Most found it endearing that she could never tell a lie; others called her a George Washington wannabe (which she  _ vehemently _ denied) but most just didn’t tell her secrets. She was happy with that.

 

Lucy had never had much of an imagination, either. She’d always encased her mind in facts because it comforted her. Facts could never mislead her or let her down, and facts could never, ever, lie to her. 

 

But then Garcia Flynn had to go and steal a freaking time machine.  _ A time machine. _

 

It took her awhile to figure out why she was the  _ only  _ historian capable for the job. She was being denied her tenure with the University for some odd reason or another and all she could come up with was  _ maybe  _ because she wasn’t good enough.  _ But if I’m not good enough, then why on Earth was I chosen for this? To go back in time and attempt to preserve history? _

 

Turns out that reason was a fact, and one that, for once in her life, she didn’t want to know. In only a matter of weeks her world had turned upside down and inside out. She was left confused, and alone, and  _ betrayed. _

 

When she realized that her sister was part of a timeline that no longer existed, Lucy resigned herself to knowing she would the rest of her life mourning the life of a person nobody would ever know. When she realized that the man whom she had grown up believing was her father had actually never been her father to begin with, she felt hurt. Why hadn’t her mother ever thought to tell her? Why had she believed that she couldn’t tell Lucy? She couldn’t trust anybody.

 

When she found out who her real father was and what he was a part of, Lucy was hardly in disbelief. According to history, she was an alien traveling in a spaceship. She was sure anything was possible at this point. Her life was becoming a really fucked up episode of the X-Files.

 

But no matter how much she tried to prepare herself for what was next to come, Lucy still felt like she had died when her mother had announced herself as Rittenhouse. She couldn’t breathe. She thought she had known everything about her mom – from the weird way she brushed her teeth in the morning, to the even more eccentric ritual she had before she went to bed. Lucy couldn’t believe that her mother was actually part of an organization that was silently running the United States.

 

She hadn’t spoken to her mother since, telling her that she had to think about it. But her mother knew,  _ she knew,  _ about all of Lucy’s extracurricular activities that she spent her days doing now.

 

Lucy had spent an entire week trying to analyze every bit of her life, trying to figure out what was real and what wasn’t. What was true or false; fact or fiction. She finally came to the conclusion that there were  people she could trust in this world, though one of them she wasn’t entirely keen on.

 

Namely Garcia Flynn. As soon as the puzzle pieces began to fit together and form an actual picture, Lucy had begun to realize that while his methods were crude and distasteful, he had never lied to her. She now began to realize that it was her journal that he kept closely guarded and that maybe he did actually care about her in a way that she couldn’t explain. Lucy couldn’t believe the man who had been shaping up to be her arch nemesis might actually be her greatest asset.

 

But where Flynn left off, others stepped in whom she actually liked.

 

The first of which was Denise Christopher. She clearly had no quarrels about getting her hands dirty, and while her goal was to ultimately catch Flynn before he fucked history up beyond all repair and arrest him for all the people that he had hurt and even  _ killed, _ she also knew right from wrong, and Rittenhouse was very,  _ very _ wrong. When Lucy had informed Christopher of everything going on, she had been none too pleased about the entire situation that she had been dragged into, but Lucy was determined to stop all guilty parties. Including Rittenhouse.

 

Then there was Rufus Carlin. He was one of the best people that she had ever had the chance to meet. He had no ulterior motives, and while he gave her some room to question him at first, it had spoken volumes about him when he came clean to the team. He had further solidified himself in her book when she realized that the only reason he was doing it was to keep his family safe. Rufus was kind to a fault. He was smart, thoughtful, loyal, and brave. He would just as soon give his life for her as she would for him. And where Rufus was, Jiya wasn’t too far behind. Lucy was almost certain she could trust her to tell the truth.

 

Wyatt Logan, though... She trusted him with everything in the world – with her own life and with her sister’s. He was a bit of a hot head. He was stubborn. He was a typical soldier. But all of those features had saved her life over and over again. Wyatt had nothing left to lose and she’d known that she could trust him from day one. The moment he had helped her buckle in that first time, what felt so long ago, she knew that she could trust him. And she did. Then there was that feeling that she got every time she was around him, that feeling of butterflies in her stomach that she had never felt around anybody before.  _ Wyatt was special. _

 

That’s why, as Lucy walked onto the sidewalk that ran across the front of her apartment complex, Lucy was texting Wyatt.  _ ‘Drinks? I’ll buy the first round.’ _

 

Lucy stood for a second, knowing that Wyatt had his phone on his person, or at least very close to him, because of the very likely chance that the group got called together for a little field trip to the dinosaur age. She wasn’t surprised when her phone started ringing. “Hey, you down for a bar crawl?”

 

Lucy listened to the light chuckle that poured through the speaker and warmed her soul. “As much as I am down for drinking my problems away, I think we should limit ourselves, we haven’t been called in a while and I’m not sure how much longer this streak is going to last.”

 

Lucy laughed sardonically. “You’re only saying that because I’m buying.”

 

“Maybe, anyways, where you wanna head, ma’am?” Lucy grinned, the ache in her chest slowly dissipating. Lucy was beginning to think that maybe this was exactly what she needed. 

 

Lucy thought of her options. “How about we head to The Broken Oar. Its cute, small,and I like it.”

 

“Alright. I’ll meet you there in 15?” Wyatt agreed. Lucy could hear Wyatt rustling around in the background, presumably trying to get ready.

 

“Yea, I’ll see you there.” Lucy hung up first, goodbyes were never, ever, her strong suit. So she decided to leave most of her conversations open ended. She wasn’t sure why, and she wasn’t sure what started it all, but she knew she hated them.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Lucy was rubbing her palms on her jeans. She decided to ignore the fact that her hands were coated in a fine layer of sweat. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and her bag sat on the stool next to her. She was nursing a beer, deciding for simple rather than her normal concoctions of fruity and strong.

 

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” Wyatt’s Texan accent was laid on thick, as he slid onto the seat next to her.

 

“Oh you know, hoping that the man of my dreams will waltz in here and remind me that despite how hard everything seems right now, maybe it will all get better eventually.” Lucy deadpanned, looking over at Wyatt with a weak smile on her face.

 

“Well, I don’t know much about being the man of your dreams, but I’m willing to listen if you need to talk.”

 

“Thanks Wyatt.”

 

Suddenly she was laying her whole life out in front of her. She barely noticed that Wyatt was hardly touching his own drink, rather cradling it in his hands as he listened to her. His eyes boring straight into her eyes, and peering into her soul as she told her stories. Stories of her childhood, (her original childhood,) stories of her parents, (her actual father,) stories of her students and some of her craziest classes. She could tell that maybe she had drank too much when she started telling some of her favorite historical stories.

 

Wyatt seemed to be able to know exactly what she wanted to hear and when she wanted to hear it too. He would smile when the story called for it, and squeeze her hand reassuringly when she got a little  _ too _ caught up in the memories. But he was listening, and seemed to know that it was exactly what she needed.

 

“So, Taft had to put in a brand new bathtub because the white house bathtub wasn’t large enough?”

 

“Apparently, and he didn’t care, he was happy with who he was.”

 

“Amazing.”

 

The evening was going so well. Lucy didn’t realize that just by thinking those words, she might as well have just told the universe to throw whatever it wanted at her, she was ready.

 

She was  _ not _ ready.

 

They had to have been sitting at the bar for at least two and a half hours. She didn’t care to keep track, and Wyatt never made an effort to stop her or leave. So she just kept talking. All she was sure of, was that it was late when the front window was blown open, and then 

her world was all blinding light---like she had looked right into the sun---and a penetrating ringing in her ears. Later on she would realize that it was a flash grenade.

 

She must have fallen onto the floor before she had slowly began to come around to her senses. She could feel herself lying prone against a hard surface. Opening her eyes, all she could see were fuzzy shapes and blurs. All of the sudden she was being dragged upwards. She could faintly hear grunting over the ringing in her ears. But it was like she was underwater. Everything she heard was muffled and inaudible over the assault of noises in her ear. She slammed her eyes shut again as she tried to ward off the sensations she was feeling but it was no use.

 

She felt herself being pulled along, and suddenly felt cold air on her face as she realized that she had just been dragged outside into the cold, spring, night. Then she was being thrown, the hands on her were suddenly not there, and her feet weren’t under her. Then just as quickly there was something cool,  _ metal?,  _ pressed up against the side of her face, and she realized suddenly that she was laying down. “- _ not out, -date her?” _

 

_ ‘Date me? Wha-‘ _

 

Her thoughts were quickly spiraling down the metaphorical drain as she felt herself falling unconscious.

 

­­Coming around again was horrible. Lucy had never felt a hangover like this in her life.

Her head was pounding, her temples, her neck, all over. It was just a constant throb, her body protesting every beat of her heart. She groaned, as she tried to bring her hands up to rub at her eyes.

 

Her eyes suddenly shot open as she realized her wrists were bound in front of her. She looked down and felt her heart racing as she noticed the handcuffs that were wrapped around her wrists. Connected to the handcuffs was a chain, which was connected to the stone/concrete wall in front of her, giving her only 2 or 3 feet of movement.

 

“Lucy?” Her name floated through the air as she attempted to sit up. It was a mistake, her stomach immediately clenched as whatever contents in her stomach threatened to make an appearance. Almost did, until she realized that sitting still and not moving, with her eyes closed actually helped quell the sickness.

 

“W’att?” Lucy called out, still not quite processing her surroundings.

 

“Lucy, hey you ok?” Clenching her jaw just a bit harder than she was clenching her eyes, she made an attempt to roll over onto her other side. It was then that she realized that she was laying on cold, rough, concrete. Slowly, and carefully, she maneuvered her arms up above her head and then rolled over.

 

When she was settled, with her hands as comfortably under her head as possible, she began to open her eyes.

 

The room was dark. There was a lamp in the corner that was casting a shade over the room. The room itself was small. It was like a concrete box, the room was about the size of a small living room. There was no furniture other than the table with the lamp. There was a doorway that she was facing, across the room, but there was no way she could reach it.It was  _ at least  _ ten feet away from her. She cast a glance down towards her feet, and further down the wall, the only occupant of the room was staring at her intensely.

 

There was blood coating his dark hair, ‘ _ he must have fallen,’  _ and it trailed down onto his left temple. The right side of his face was a mess of bruises, and his eyelid was slightly swollen. “What happened? Where are we?” Lucy whispered, fear beginning to clench at her heart.

 

“I don’t know where. They knocked me out at the bar.” Wyatt ran a hand through the hair on the back of his head. His restraints were similar to hers. He was also in handcuffs, but his wrists were bloody, like he had rubbed them raw. He must have been up for a while. His handcuffs were also connected to a chain that ran about the same length as hers and was bolted to the wall behind him.

 

“Why are we here?” Lucy whispered, anything louder and she would start to feel like her head was beginning to split apart again.

 

“I don’t know Luce, I haven’t seen anybody since I came around. How are you?”

 

“I don’t know. My head is pounding, but I think it’s just a hangover?” Lucy meant to mean it as a statement, but she couldn’t tell herself.

 

“Maybe, I don’t know how they knocked you out, so that could have something to do with it. Just rest and relax for a bit, I’m sure we’ll figure this out.” Somehow, Lucy believed the words.

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

Agent ­­Denise Christopher looked up from the bag that’s contents had spilled out onto the ground before her. As soon as Lucy had been identified as the victim of an attack, the agent had been notified immediately, and Denise had driven up to the scene in under an hour. All the information that could be provided to her had been given to her as she had navigated herself to the bar.

 

When she had stepped foot out the door of her vehicle, she could smell the smoke that lingered in the air around the bar. Looking at the front, she could see where the flashbang had been thrown into the building. Right through the window of the front door.

 

There were fifteen people that sat on the curb, all with blankets around them and varying degrees of care. Some had tissues, others had ice packs. Some just sat staring into space.

There was an animated gentlemen speaking with one of the detectives, and Denise headed over to the pair. “Agent Christopher, FBI.” She introduced herself, giving a reassuring smile to the man, then turning to the detective.

 

“Detective Carter. This is Jonathan Wilson, he witnessed the entire attack from outside the bar. He was just telling me what he had seen?” The women turned their focus back to the man as he told his tale.

 

He had seen a large, dark van pull up right in front of the bar. Within seconds, three people had jumped from the van. One of them had shot a flashbang grenade through the front window. As soon as it had gone off the group had pulled gas masks on and had stormed the building. Almost immediately, one had returned, holding up a woman and then throwing her in the back of the van. Another man jumped from the back, and had walked to the front of the van. He brought back a case and then he drugged the girl. Then another two of the men walked back out with an unconscious man between their arms and had thrown him in the back as well. The fourth man came running out of the building and had hopped in the van and they had all driven away.

 

“If I showed you a photograph or two, do you think you would be able to identify the victims that were taken?” Denise asked, pulling out her phone and pulling up her gallery before the man had the chance to confirm.

 

“I can try. It was dark, so I can be sure.”

 

“Ok, so how about if you think it's any of the people in this-“ She pulled up a photo and held it up to his face, “-photo, you point them out.”

 

It was a photo that she had taken during a lighter moment of dealing with the time traveling trio. It was Lucy, still in garbs from early 1800’s, with Rufus and Wyatt both at her side. All three smiling about something or another. Most likely that they had foiled whatever plan Flynn had made to try and screw up history as they knew it. They had stopped it and history wasn’t  _ too _ messed up because of it. Jaya had joined in on the fun and was at Rufus’s side, pulling him into her embrace.

 

“This woman definitely, and this guy.” Lucy, was picked out of the photo instantly, then Wyatt. “This guy was the one pulled out. The hair is definitely the same. Denise felt her stomach clench as she turned to the detective. “What are they, some kind of Civil War reenactors?”

 

“Something like that. Detective, the second victim is likely Wyatt Logan. He’s a friend of Lucy Preston, the woman who patrons say was taken.This case is under FBI jurisdiction from this point on.”

 

The detective seemed curious, but nodded in understanding. “Head on in if you want to see the scene.” She turned and thanked the gentleman, while Denise walked into the bar. 

 

Glass littered the floor by the front door and sporadically across the floor. Puddles of beverages all over the floor and counter. Heading over to the bar, Denise's eyes were immediately drawn to the bag Lucy brought with her almost everywhere, her wallet sitting right outside of it.

 

There were two CSI technicians both taking samples from different blood droplets that had spattered on both the floor and on the bar stools. “I want to know who that blood belongs to as as possible. Its urgent.”

 

Pulling out her phone she placed a call to one of her agents, “We need to get Rufus Carlin into protective custody, now.”

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

­They had been sitting in silence for a while now. No amount of words would bring comfort to either of them right then and there, so they didn’t waste their breaths.

 

Wyatt was sitting with his back the against the wall, his legs crossed and his hands resting in his lap. His head was propped up by the wall behind him with his eyes closed. Lucy couldn’t be sure if he was sleeping or not, but in her defense, she couldn’t tell when they had first met either. At this point, she imagined it was just something he did to pass the time.

 

Lucy was lying on the floor, however, she had tried a myriad of positions that would feel better on her aching joints. Standing didn’t last long, her feet had begun to hurt soon after she had stood and her blood had rushed from her head quickly. She tried sitting crisscrossed, and then with her feet held out in front of her. Then she had tried lying on her side again.

 

She had settled with lying on her back, her arms folded underneath her head to give her some cushion. Her head was pounding less violently the longer that time seemed to stretch out, and she didn’t feel like she was going to puke if she tried to move anymore. She had even felt her stomach growl every so often. She felt it more than she had heard it, but the longer she sat here, the louder it would get.

 

She had no concept of time either, which had bothered her. She couldn’t tell what day it was. Had it been only a few hours since the bar, or had it been two days? She couldn’t tell. So Lucy wasn’t sure how long they had sat there before they began to hear noises outside the door.

Wyatts head had shot up, and Lucy had sat up as quickly as her head would allow it to. The noises were followed by the sound of metal on metal. Most likely a key in a lock, shortly after, the door knob twisted and three men walked into the room.

 

The first man, the smallest of the three seemed like he was in charge. He pocketed the keys and had strode to the center of the room. Lucy felt her stomach sink as she realized that they weren’t wearing masks. She knew exactly what that meant.

 

His eyes were dark brown, and they sank deep into his pale face. He didn’t have any hair sitting on top of his head, it all seemed to have slid to the sides of his head. He was dressed in a cheap suit, with a tie from the late 70’s. It looked like he belonged in that era as well. His face was wrinkled, giving testament to how old he was.

 

The second and third man were taller, but still slim. They were muscular, but didn’t look like they spent  _ all  _ of their time bodybuilding. They both had their hair cut close to their heads. One of them had hazel eyes sunk into a tan face, and the other had light green eyes sitting in an equally pale face.

 

She labelled them all according to their eye color. The leader was Brown, the henchmen were Hazel and Green.

They stood in a formation that Lucy would be hard pressed to believe that they didn’t practice it everyday at least once. Both Hazel and Green stood a step back on both sides of Brown, both clothed in complete black. Long sleeved polos and black cargo pants.

 

They stood there for a minute. Everybody seeming to take everyone else in.

 

Lucy turned to Wyatt after a moment and was shocked to see him smiling. “So who talks first? You talk first, I talk first?”

 

“Lucy Preston, Wyatt Logan, welcome.” Brown spoke, the words strong and biting into Lucy’s brain with every syllable.

 

“I like the place, the lamp adds a nice touch, sort of like turn of the 15 th century dungeon.” Wyatt quipped, his smile vibrant but not quite reaching his eyes as he grinned maliciously up at the man.

 

“Yes, sorry I couldn’t seem to find a ladder to hang the shackles from the ceiling, so we made do.” Brown joked as well, his smile much more gleeful in that whole ‘I’m-going-to-have-fun-killing-my-victims’ sort of way.

 

Wyatt shrugged, “I guess I’ll just have to try not to hold that against you.” He lifted his hands up, rattling the chains in the process. “To what do we owe the pleasure of being here in your presence?”

 

“Well, I think you will find this story quite mesmerizing.” Brown said, holding his hands in front of his body.

 

“Can we skip the story and just get some bullet points? Your boys beat me up pretty good last night, and I could really do with a nap.” Lucy kept her mouth shut as she watched in awe as Wyatt seemed to be in good kahoots with the men that were holding them captive.

“But where’s the fun in that?” Brown asked, a look of mock hurt on his face. “Anyways, I’ve been hearing rumors within a few of the circles that I run in that there is something big going on at Mason Laboratories. Now, I think it would be very profitable for me to be able to go back to my contacts and be able to have this information on hand.” Lucy’s stomach dropped. Whatever this man was up to, was not good, the moment he had mentioned Connor Mason’s haven, she knew it would only go downhill from there. 

 

“Now, after casing out the place, we realized that you two were going in and out of there frequently. So we thought we would ask you guys what’s going on in there.” Brown waved nonchalantly at the two of them before continuing. “We only planned on taking you, miss Lucy,” He stared pointedly at her. “but when I realized that you were with your good friend, Wyatt, I made a calculated decision.”

 

“Now here we are.” Wyatt smirked. Lucy could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t believe she was here and she couldn’t believe the situation that she and Wyatt found herself in. What was the point of having a facility under government watch one hundred and twenty two percent of the time if they couldn’t prevent people from spying on the facility.

 

“Yes, now here you are.” Brown sent a wave towards Hazel and he walked back towards the door. He disappeared outside it, the door slamming closed behind him. “Now, because I’m a nice person, I’m going to give you both the option to tell me what's going on, without it hurting.”

Lucy looked from Brown over to Wyatt, who looked over at her and she suddenly felt slightly comforted as his blue eyes met hers.His smirk relaxing into a light smile as he shrugged in her direction.

 

“Its ok Lucy, I’ll tell him.” Wyatt looked back to Brown and let his smile drop. “So we do some exploring in that facility.”

 

“And what kind of exploring is that, mister Logan?” Brown asked, taking a step towards him, kneeling down so that they were at eye level.

 

“Well, this might be awkward, but we explore your mom.” Wyatt’s smile was back, just like that, and Lucy couldn’t help but smirk as well.

 

Brown started laughing and waved back at Green who went to the door and opened it. Hazel walked back into the room, a bag over his shoulders and a small stool. “We start with you, smart guy.”

 

Wyatt shrugged and Lucy realized that he had expected that outcome. Green disappeared from the room as well and came back quickly, bringing in a chair.

He set the chair in the center of the room, and Brown stood a few feet from it. With another ominous wave of the hand, Green and Hazel reached for Wyatt, and had him unhandcuffed in seconds. Setting him down in the chair, they quickly restrained his hands behind the back of the chair with another pair of handcuffs they pulled from the bag.

 

Lucy couldn’t understand why he was wasn’t fighting and why he wasn’t trying to escape, but he wasn’t. He sat relaxed in the chair, one foot resting with his leg stretched out, the other tucked under the chair. 

 

When all motion had ceased, Brown took a step forward, and kneeled down again. He put his face eye level with Wyatt’s, “Pick a number, one through three.”

 

Wyatt seemed to contemplate his answer for a moment, and then leaned his own head forwards, “Five.”

 

All was silent while Brown stood straight and took a few steps backwards. Nodding, he sucked in his lip, as if he was considering Wyatt’s answer. “Fine. Gentlemen, you have five minutes to hit him as many times as you can.” The man looked down at his watch, then back to Hazel and Green. “Starting now.”

 

Lucy felt herself screaming for them to stop, but she couldn’t stop herself. All she knew that she was opening her mouth. She shouted a chorus of ‘stop’ and ‘please’ and the occasional ‘don’t hurt him.’

 

She wished she would have looked away, but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of the group. As soon as Hazel would land a punch, Green would step in and hit him, before Hazel’s hand was even pulled away. They didn’t have a preference for where they punched him either. One second it would be his lower abdomen, the next it would be his face, the next it would be his chest, and the whole time, Wyatt remained nearly silent. Either that or she couldn’t hear him over the sounds of her own screaming.

 

She felt tears rolling down her face as Brown watched content from his spot near the door. Turning to her, about halfway through, he had mentioned something about how beautiful it was that ‘she was screaming for him, but no one would hear her.’  _ If a kidnapped woman in a dungeon screams, and no one can hear her, was she really screaming at all? _

 

Wyatt went limp after about 212 seconds,  _ not like she was counting.  _ His head dropped to his chest, his breathing ragged, one leg tucked up underneath the chair, the other laid out in front of him as before. Hazel and Green stepped back, Hazel stooping down into the bag to grab a gallon of water. “You want us to wake him up boss?”

 

Brown nodded, as he turned to Lucy. “You don’t have to stay here, all you have to do is tell me what's going on in the facility.”

 

Lucy’s throat was raw, and her face was wet and it took all she had in her to not try and shy away up against the wall. Instead, she shook her head, bringing her wrists up to wipe her nose. “I-I don’t know. I just-we just,” she sucked in a deep breath. “please let us go. Please?”

 

“Sorry sweet thing, today is not your lucky day, and unfortunately I’ve got time. Do you?” Lucy looked up as Green yanked Wyatts head back and placed a rag on top of his face. Using the gallon of water, they began to pour it onto the rag. Within moments, Wyatt was sputtering and gasping as they continued to pour water down onto the rag.

 

They didn’t stop until the entire gallon was gone.

 

When they finally finished, they pulled the rag off his face, and he immediately leaned his head forwards, coughing and gasping as he tried to expel whatever water had made it into his body. Brown stepped forward and placed a light hand on Wyatt’s cheek. “You have spirit, and you can be certain that I will break it.” Wyatt’s chest heaved as the man let his hand linger just long enough, only stopping when he turned to his men, “Let’s go eat breakfast, let these two think about what they’re answers will be when we come back.”

 

Wyatt watched them leave, shooting daggers with his eyes, but the moment the door closed, he dropped his head back to his chest and let out another cough. “You ok Lucy?”

 

“I’m fine, they didn’t do anything to me. You?”

 

“Whatever happens, don’t say a word. Do not say a word.” Wyatt brought his head back up to look at her, “Promise me?”

 

“What’s gonna happen Wyatt?” Lucy dared to ask, wishing she could reach him, to wipe the blood running in rivulets down his face. Lucy could no longer see the bruising, his entire face was a mess of swelling and cuts in his skin where the men had broken it. He brought his stare downwards again, his pupils clearly two different sizes, yet his head still squarely on his shoulders.

Wyatts temples were both coated in a fine layer of blood, and the blood ran watery down into the collar of his shirt. His hair clung to his skin, the water still dripping down. He shook his head after a moment, carefully as he looked back up at Lucy, “I don’t know, Luce. Please, promise me?”

 

Lucy shook her head, words escaping her mind as she tried to tell him ‘no, you didn’t ask to be here anymore than I did, so why do you get to take the beating?’ or ‘I’m not gonna watch them hurt you.’ Or even, ‘I'm not gonna watch them kill you.’

 

Instead, all she could do, as she felt her eyes fill with water again, was nod her head. “I promise.”

 

He let his head rest on his chest again, almost as if in relief. A sigh escaping from his lips followed by another cough.

 

The two didn’t say another word.

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

“Agent Christopher! Agent!” Denise closed her eyes tightly as she heard the voice from behind her call out. She was in a field office, the resources were better reached here than if she had been at the laboratory.

 

“Rufus, I’m glad you made it here safely.” Denise sighed turning around to see Rufus jogging up to her, two of her more senior agents following closely behind him. Rufus clearly did not expect to be here at five in morning, as shown by his plaid pajama bottoms and his Star Wars t-shirt.

 

“What the hell is going on Christopher? Why am I here and where are Lucy and Wyatt, shouldn’t they be here too?” Denise was hoping that he wouldn’t notice the absence of his peers so quickly, but there  _ was  _ a reason, a good one, why he was part of the team that brought a time machine to life.

 

“Rufus, if you come with me, I’ll explain everything to you, but I need to go brief my own superiors.” She watched Rufus nod as he began to walk beside her, keeping her pace.

Trying to get her heart to stop beating so quickly was an impossible task as she pulled her phone from her pocket. “Late last night, early this morning, Lucy and Wyatt were kidnapped.”

She expected a remark from the man about how preposterous that idea was, but when none came, she looked over to her companion and was mildly shocked to see he wasn’t there.

Turning back, she saw him standing still in the middle of the hall. His agents standing behind him. He was looking at her, a mixture of shock and grief on his face. “Kidnapped?” He squeaked out, beginning to wring at his hands nervously in front of him.

 

“Yes, Rufus, I’m sorry, I don’t know more than that yet, but I want you to know that we are doing everything in our power to find them.” Denise tried to reassure him, but all he managed was to shake his head in disbelief.

 

“Two of my friends were kidnapped last night, and I’m only now hearing about it?” Rufus exclaimed.

 

“Ruf-“

 

“Two of my best friends are somewhere out there, being held against their will and have been for multiple hours and I am only just now hearing about this? I’ve been cooped up here for two hours now, why didn’t anyone say anything to me? Why didn’t  _ you _ say something to me?” He was backing up slowly, almost imperceptibly, his expression morphing from disbelief to hurt and almost scared.

 

“Mister Carlin, right now it is in the interest of the government –“

 

“I don’t give a damn about the government, I just want my friends back.” Rufus yelled, his hands shaking in front of him.

 

Denise walked forwards and placed a hand comfortingly on his upper arm, squeezing for support. “Due to the urgency and the threat to national security, it is of the utmost importance that we find them. All hands are on deck, all security agencies are currently putting forth all of their assets and efforts into finding those two. So I assure you Rufus, we are doing everything we can.” Rufus closed his eyes as he took in a couple of deep shuddering breaths. “I’ll let you know the moment that I know anything.”

 

Denise, knowing that she couldn’t spend much more time comforting the man waved on the two agents and pulled away. “But until we find them, these two are your best friends, so be nice.”

Rufus nodded and Denise walked away, leaving Rufus to dwell in his thoughts.

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

Denise had been staring at her computer, going through any cameras they had in the area at the time of the attack to try and find the van, and had only had some sporadic luck. She had one tech looking into one lead though, that appeared promising, hoping that if nothing else, they might get a license plate.

 

She hadn’t been looking for long when she got a call. “This is Christopher.”

 

“Ma’am, this is Jerry down in forensics. The local CSI just sent us the results of the samples that they pulled from the scene. We got a hit on two of the blood stains from the scene.” Denise closed her eyes, momentarily hoping that praying the nightmare away would work. It didn’t.

“Ok, and?”

 

“Well, the first came back and positively identified Wyatt Logan, after we identified and cross referenced his DNA samples that we have on hand with the DNA samples we ran from the bar.” Denise nodded, knowing that was the case.

 

“And the other, was it Lucy Preston’s blood?” Denise sighed, looking down at her empty cup.

“No ma’am, we’re running tests on it now, and should have a result shortly, but we are certain that the second blood sample must have come from someone else.” The technicians triumphant voice sang over the phone.

 

“Are you saying that we may have DNA from one of the men that kidnapped them?” Denise asked, the words almost too good to be true.

 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, ma’am.” Denise flung herself from her chair.

 

“I’ll be right down.”

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**   
  


­­­­­Lucy was staring at the door like a hawk, trying to anticipate when they would be back. The breakfast comment had left her pretty sure that it was the morning after her binge drinking session.

Which made her feel only marginally better? Maybe it was because they had only been here for a short amount of time.

 

But in such a short amount of time, so much damage had already been done.

 

Lucy went back and forth between watching the door and watching Wyatt. He hadn’t moved much since the initial round of beatings, except to roll his head lightly, probably to stretch his neck from it’s cramped position. Then, after staring at the wall for a few seconds, he would rest his head on his chest again.

 

And Lucy would go back to staring at the door, her thumbs twiddling with her restraints. Then the cycle would repeat again.

 

She didn’t bother trying to keep track of how long they had gone, but when she heard rustling outside the door again, she turned back to Wyatt.

 

He was already sitting straight in his seat. He flashed Lucy a forced grin coupled with a wink then turned back to the door.

 

The door flung open and Brown sauntered in, this time wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a polo. “You’re both awake, we can get straight to it.” He motioned in Hazel and Green. Lucy's stomach flipped as she watched as the men walked into the room. Hazel was carrying a small, folding table. Green was carrying a bag. 

 

Hazel set the table down in front of Wyatt and turned back around and sauntered back out the door. Green began to unload the contents of his bag out onto the table. 

 

Lucy wasn't sure why the first thing he pulled out was a car battery, but when the jumper cables followed shortly behind, it seemed to click. Following the battery and cables were a handheld taser, and then a longer cattle prod.

 

Hazel sauntered back in with a second chair, leather cuffs already attached to the front legs and arms of the chair. Lucy stared at the chair, a terrified expression on her face as it was placed down next to Wyatt's own chair. “When I was younger, one of the worst pains I had ever felt was when I had stuck a key into an electrical sock-”

 

“That is single handedly one of the dumbest intros into an interrogation session I've ever heard in my life. I think you should try again.” Lucy kept her mouth shut as promised, even as both Hazel and Green walked over to her, and began to undo her restraints. 

 

Brown looked at Wyatt with a scorn, “Do you know how to shut up?” 

 

“Do you? I'm just asking for a friend.” Wyatt’s grin lifted further at the corners of his mouth, almost smiling as Lucy was led to the new chair. Almost gently she was sat down, her legs shaking as the images of some of the victims of electrical interrogation that she had seen in some of her own  history books flashed through her brain. Her stomach knotted tightly as Wyatt continued to stare down Brown.

 

“One more comment from you and I will gag you, which will not be an enjoyable experience for you.” Brown countered, stepping around the table and kneeling in front of Wyatt. 

 

Wyatt contemplated responding, Lucy could tell as his jaw twitched. Brown stood with his face inches from Wyatt for a second longer, than began to pivot, before Wyatt spoke, “I don't know, some like it rough, why can't I?”

 

Lucy barely saw Browns fist connect with Wyatt's chin. All she had seen was Wyatt's head whip to the side. She saw the grimace of pain in his eyes, but there wasn't anything she could do besides let out a sharp cry. Wyatt wiggled his jaw around, stretching it as he closed his eyes for a second. 

 

Brown clasped Wyatts chin and ripped it back towards him, forcing Wyatt to look straight at him. “I'm gonna kill you.”

 

“Listen buddy, obviously you could use some pointers, I'm just-” Brown threw his fist against Wyatt's face again, this time absorbing the full blow with his head having nowhere to turn. Brown snapped his fingers as Wyatt's nose began to leak blood again. Almost instantly, there was a roll of duct tape in his free hand.

 

Within moments, Wyatt had duct tape wrapped all around his head, effectively blocking his mouth from doing anything. Once he was done, Brown tapped Wyatt's cheek twice, then turned to Lucy. “You ever hear a person scream through a gag? Such a wonderful noise.”

 

Brown stepped back and grabbed the handheld taser from the table. Still looking at Lucy, he allowed the taser to let some of its energy loose, the mechanism cackling to life for a brief moment. 

 

“I would never hurt a women, it goes against my own, personal moral code of conduct,” Wyatt's eyes visibly rolled as he breathed deeply through his nose, Lucy couldn't be sure if it was a huff but she wouldn't be surprised. Brown ignored the reaction and continued on, “Everytime you don't tell me what I want to hear, I'm gonna electrocute him, and each time I have to electrocute him, I'm going to raise the voltage. So please, feel free to not say anything at all, I want this to hurt.”

 

As if Lucy didn't believe what he had said, Brown brought the taser down onto Wyatt's shoulder. He left it there briefly, but long enough for it to be painful. Wyatt's body stiffened as his breaths came out sharply. 

 

They continued to come out roughly even as Brown pulled the taser away, “Just like that.” 

 

Brown adjusted a nozzle on the taser then brought it close to Wyatt's neck as he circled the man, standing behind Wyatt's form. 

 

Wyatt was looking firmly at Lucy, he shook his head almost imperceptibly. 

 

“What is being done at Mason Laboratories?”

 

The taser cackled to life as Lucy felt tears collect in her eyes. She looked down and shook her head slightly. She heard the groan from Wyatt as the taser was brought down onto his skin. Lucy clenched her eyes shut until the cackling stopped. 

 

She looked up and straight at Wyatt. His chest was heaving and his nostrils flared with every breath he breathed out. His eyes fluttered open from being clenched and they eyes immediately found hers. She couldn’t decipher the expression he made before he let his eyes close again as he turned and faced the other two men in the room, likely killing them over and over in his mind. 

 

Lucy looked back up at Brown as he messed around with the tazer once more. “Are you going to answer this time?” Lucy wanted to shove the taser into Brown’s nether regions, but instead all she did was shoot a glance at Wyatt, who was looking at her again with his eyes open, then look back up at Brown.

 

The moment she shook her head, the taser was shoved back into Wyatt’s exposed neck. His back arched off of the chair as he threw his head up. His eyes slammed shut again and Lucy shut her own eyes as she tried to ignore the sounds Wyatt was making through the tape again. 

 

Only when the noises stopped, did Lucy open her eyes again. She first sought out Wyatt's eyes, like before, but they remained clenched. She glanced down at his hands that remained cuffed behind him and shuddered as she watched them shake despite their latch against each other. His chest rose and fell raggedly, his breaths coming in pants through his nose. 

 

Looking back to Brown, Lucy felt tears spring to her eyes. “All you have to do is tell me what's going on, and then I let you go.” Brown let the taser hover right over the angry red burn marks that were barely visible from her seat. 

 

Lucy shook her head again, allowing a tear to fall from her face. 

 

Brown stared at her for a second longer, and just out of the corner of her eyes, Lucy watched Wyatt as his eyes opened again and he stared straight ahead, waiting for the next round. 

 

Brown suddenly jerked his arm away and walked back towards the small table of items. “I’m clearly not getting anything from you, so I’ll let you sit for a few. But before we go-” Brown cut his words off as he grabbed the jumper cables. Neither ends were attached to the battery, as he stepped toward Wyatts front. Wyatt glaring at him halfheartedly. 

 

“Boys, I need a knife.” Hazel walked forwards, flipping open his pocket knife and handing the handle to Brown. 

 

Brown reached forward and ran a hand delicately down the front of Wyatt’s t-shirt. “It’s about time I got to see you shirtless.” With those words, he pulled the shirt off of Wyatts skin and ran the knife down the fabric, cutting the material in half. 

He brought the knife back up and set the blade against the bare skin on Wyatts chest. He pressed into the knife a bit and a rivulet of blood ran its way down Wyatts chest. Brown pressed a little bit harder than began to drag the knife down, Wyatt yelling beneath the duct tape in pain. His eyes slammed shut and his feet kicking out in front of him. Each kick missing Brown.

 

Pleased with his work, a deep, three inch long gash running down Wyatts chest, Brown placed the knife on the table. Lucy shook her head as she watched Brown pull the shirt pieces off to the side, exposing Wyatts chiseled front. “That’ll likely scar.” Wyatt winced as Brown attached the jumper cables to the skin of Wyatts front. One clipped just above his belly button, the second clipped right above the new wound. 

 

It obviously caused Wyatt a great deal of pain, based off the way he was breathing heavily. Lucy looked up at Wyatt who was staring Brown down with a threatening glare in his eyes. “Don’t you wish you could stop me?” 

 

Wyatt suddenly relaxed his glare and shrugged his shoulders. Then kicked his leg upwards into the man's crotch. 

 

Brown kneeled down as the pain seemed to make him reel. Wyatt kicked again, landing a solid kick to the mans face before Hazel and Green rushed forwards and pulled Brown out of the way. Wyatt stopped kicking once all of them were out of reach. It was Browns turn to glare at Wyatt as he sucked in breath after breath. 

 

Inwardly, Lucy was glad. As much as Brown had put Wyatt through, it was only fair that Wyatt fought back. She also knew that as soon as Brown recovered, Wyatt was in for a world of hurt, and she couldn't think of anything that would relieve Wyatt, besides the information the men desired, so she remained silent as she let her head lie down against her chest. She wished she could lay down again and curl up into a ball, allowing herself a bit of comfort. 

 

Lucy glanced back upwards as she heard Brown’s breathing begin to calm. Wyatt was relaxed, as if the little action he had achieved had relaxed him more than any spa had ever relaxed Lucy. 

 

“I’m going to kill you, Wyatt Logan, and you’re going to wish every moment until then, that you were dead.” Browns words were chopped, every syllable was spit out as he straightened up, pushing the other two men away from him. He grabbed the other ends of the jumper cables and threw them onto the car battery, the motion fluid and precise as Wyatts back arched again. 

 

Lucy was amazed at how quiet the room was. All she could hear was the electricity pulsing and Wyatt’s kicking. He wasn’t grunting or groaning or screaming. She couldn’t even tell he was breathing, the only reason she knew he was alive was how tense his body was, and he stayed that way for as long as he could. 

 

The moment he went slack, and Brown pulled the cables off of the car battery, Wyatts head dropped to his chest. Lucy’s heart sank as she watched his chest move ever so slightly up and down. She looked to his neck and could see his heartbeat fluttering rapidly, but she could hardly hear any noise indicating he was breathing. 

 

She looked to Brown who wasn’t taking his eyes off Wyatt’s still form, a crooked smirk on his face. “Let head out for a bit and allow Lucy the chance to change her mind,” Brown looked to her finally, his smile fading, “-there is still a chance for you to make it out of here alive. I suggest you take it next time I offer it, because after that, I won’t be so forgiving.”

 

He glanced once more at Wyatt and left, Hazel and Green on his heels. The door slammed shut behind them and Lucy felt more tears fall from her eyes, as she watched Wyatts chest continue to rise and fall. That being the only thing giving her any solace in the moment. 

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

“Anthony Edwin. He runs a small anti-government group. He has  _ very  _ few followers, ma’am.” The young agent said, passing Denise a folder. Denise opened the large manila envelope and looked through the records, a mugshot sitting paperclipped to the top of the file. 

 

“How many is a few?” Denise questioned, noting his address and all the properties he owned. The license plate had led back to his name. 

 

“Three men, ma’am.” The agent replied, passing Denise a second, third, and fourth folder. 

 

Denise accepted the folders and flipped them open, carefully noting the faces. “How did they end up on our radar?”

 

“They didn’t really. At the scene, we were able to find two different blood samples. One belonged to Master Sergeant Logan. The other we were able to identify as Elliot Vickers. When we looked into his internet search history and such, we were able to trace him back to Edwin’s website. He preaches all about his distrust of the government to a total of three subscribers. Dustin Xaver, Vickers, and a third person. Taylor Novak. Four men, all of whom fit the height and sizes of the men who kidnapped Logan and Preston.” Denise stopped walking as she looked to the agent. 

 

“Why haven’t we brought them in?”

 

“We checked all four of their home addresses and none of them were there, that leaves the other four addresses that Edwin filed with his taxes and a final place that his grandfather built out in the woods. I figured that’d be a good place to start.”

 

“Alright, let's go,” Denise looked out across the pen. “We leave in ten minutes.” Denise made eye contact with Rufus, who sat at one of the agents desk. She sent a comforting nod in his direction and he sent a hopeful smile that she almost missed as she walked off.  _ Almost. _

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

Lucy’s tears had stopped for a while, and then started again when he realized how alone she was, and then stopped again when she realized that crying was not helping. So instead she did her best to try and remain calm, and figure out how she was going to wake Wyatt up, and how she was going to relieve some of the cramp that she felt in her back and neck. 

 

She tested the cuffs around her hands for the upteenth time and realized they were being just as stubborn as they were the last time she checked. Then she glanced at Wyatt and watched his chest rise and fall. It was still a bit erratic and his heart rate was still too fast in her opinion, but as long as he was alive, she wasn’t completely alone. 

 

She heard footsteps outside the door and she drew in a deep breath, trying her best to calm her own racing heart. 

 

Brown stepped through the door, followed by Hazel and then Green. A fourth man trailed behind them, a limp in his gait. As he looked to Wyatt with a look of disdain, and then to Lucy, Lucy titled him Blue. 

 

Brown didn’t look happy as he glared at Wyatt and then herself. He had a nice new bruise covering his cheekbone where Wyatt had made contact with his boot. “Wake him up, I want answers, and I am getting them now.”

 

“What happened?” Lucy asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Brown looked to her in surprise but it quickly morphed back into his angered expression. 

 

“Feds showed up at our houses, probably looking for you. So that deadline we discussed earlier? Well it just got pushed up.” Lucy felt her heart flutter as she realized that herself and Wyatt were closer to being rescued than she previously thought. That flutter was quickly quelled as she watched Brown put a hand out, and Hazel placed a knife in Browns hand. 

 

Lucy shook her head as she watched Brown step closer to herself, Green rounding Wyatt with another gallon of water. Wyatt's head was yanked back by his hair again, and a rag placed over his face. Lucy, once again, could only stare in horror as Hazel and Blue both stood beside Wyatt, each gripping him.by the shoulders and head, presumably to prevent him from moving. 

 

Then Green began the process of 'waking Wyatt up.’ 

 

He began struggling immediately after the water began to pour, and Lucy could only imagine this time was going to be worse than last, his mouth being taped shut not going to help matters. By the time the gallon was half gone, he was thrashing in his seat, his body twisting and turning as Green continued to lazily allow water to pour out. 

 

By the time the water was gone, and they allowed Wyatt to lean his head forward and try to breathe again, Brown had taken his place in between his two captives. Hazel removed the rag from off of Wyatt's face as Brown handed Blue the knife. “Get the tape off his face, I want him talking too.”

 

Blue, surprisingly gentle, slid the knife under the duct tape and sliced it open. The gentleness went out the window as he ripped the tape away. 

 

Wyatt was still sitting with his head against his chest, breathing harshly through his nose and mouth as soon as it was uncovered. In the quiet of the room, she could hear his breath rasping in his chest, like he had inhaled some of the water. 

 

Brown surprisingly stayed quiet as he allowed Wyatt to regain his composure. Blue handed the knife back to him and went to stand with Green and Hazel behind Brown. 

 

After a long moment, Wyatt raised his head, coughing once before glancing for a brief second at Lucy. Reaffirming that she was still there. Then his gaze turned cold and he turned back to Brown. 

 

Lucy allowed her gaze to linger for a few seconds, taking in the way his chest still rose and fell sharply, and the way the muscles in his neck we're firm and rigid. She could see where the tape had just been ripped from his face, and angry red line wrapping itself around his face. 

 

“So this is how it's going to be. You're going to tell me whats going on at Masons, or I'm gonna start jamming this blade places it doesn't belong. Sound good soldier boy?”

 

“I don't know,” a quick breath, “if good is how,” another sharp breath, “I’d put it.”

 

“Well then I have the added bonus of calling this fun.” Brown turned to Lucy and Lucy could only look him in the eye for a moment before she dropped her gaze, her heart hammering away in her chest. 

 

“What do you think, miss Lucy, you think this is fun?” She could practically feel Brown’s eyes boring into the top of her head, but she couldn’t bring her own eyes upwards. Instead, she squeezed them shut and dropped her head to her chest. 

 

The room spent a few moments in silence, and she wasn’t sure whether to be afraid of it or to embrace it. The silence meant that nothing was happening, Wyatt wasn’t being tortured and Brown wasn’t getting off on some sick fantasy. But she had spent a lot of time in silence, and she wasn’t sure what would happen if she didn’t respond. 

 

So she shook her head, honesty the safest answer she could muster. 

 

Brown clucked his tongue and she raised her head again, her eyes resting on the three other men. Green, Hazel, and Blue. 

 

“Shame, make them face each other, I want her to witness this, I’m sure she’ll start talking sooner or later.” Lucy’s head whipped around to stare at Wyatt, she could only imagine the distress that was radiating from her. She was too afraid to admit that she knew what was about to happen, and the resigned look in Wyatt's eyes proved that he had come to the same conclusion. 

 

Blue stayed back, as Hazel and Green bore down on Wyatt, they grabbed his chair and swung it around. None too gently either. A groan escaped Wyatts gritted teeth as his body was jostled around. 

 

As the chair moved, Wyatt's eyes stayed steady with Lucy’s, somehow he was the one reassuring her. “What is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” 

 

“Just hoping that the man of my dreams will waltz in here and remind me that it will all be ok.”  She made an attempt at a smile, but she could feel her eyes watering as Brown closed in on Wyatts backside, and Blue disappeared behind her somewhere. Hazel and Green took position on both sides of Lucy. 

 

“It’s going to be ok Lucy.” Wyatt comforted, his sad eyes selling the promise that there was no way he could keep. She knew it, he knew it, and everybody else in the room knew it too, but the simple phrase did more for Lucy than any smile had all day.

 

“Here’s how this is going to go.” Brown interrupted, “Lucy, you are going to watch everything. If you close your eyes for any prolonged period of time, I’m going to twist, and that hurts like a bitch. If you turn your head, I’m gonna rip. If you tell me what I want to know, I will stop. So the ball is in your court miss, it's all up to you.” Brown said, the knife shining grimly in the shaded lighting. 

 

He brought it up to rest in his hand loosely, and he took a position beside Wyatt, his opposite hand resting gently on Wyatts shoulder. Lucy looked back to Wyatt. He shrugged, his expression darkened and shielded, “Remember what you promised me,” he drew in a struggle of a breath, and a hint of a smirk glistened upon his lips, “it’s all gonna be ok.”

 

Lucy drew in a deep breath of her own and nodded. 

 

Throughout all of this, Wyatt had not yet failed to be brave, and Lucy was certain that wasn’t something that the Delta Forces could engrave into his brain. This was Wyatt. She wasn’t sure he was born this way, but somewhere along the way, he grew to be brave. Whether it be through experience--she chose not to dwell upon that train of thought. 

 

Wyatt could die, and he was only worried about protecting her, keeping her sane, and protecting the secrets that they held. 

 

He was the bravest man Lucy had ever met. 

 

“I promise.” The words were rasped, like she hadn’t spoke in a while which wasn’t untrue. They fell from her lips as Wyatt’s smirk fell, and he drew in a breath and shut his eyes. Seemingly composing himself. 

 

Lucy knew the group was watching the interaction, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Right now, it was her and Wyatt. 

 

“Alright Lucy, what’ll it be?” 

 

Wyatt turned to Brown then, and a smile, darker than anything she had ever seen before, graced his features. “You can suck my ass.”

 

Lucy didn’t want to risk looking away from Wyatt, not wanting to be responsible for whatever laid ahead. 

 

“I’d really rather not.” Brown muttered, and before she could gather any of her thoughts, the knife glinted in the air as it passed her face, and as the blade disappeared into Wyatts thigh. 

 

She didn’t realize what she had done before it had happened, but one moment she was staring in morbid fascination at the hilt of the blade and the next she was staring at the back of her eyelids. She could hear the squelch as the knife twisted into the meat of Wyatts thigh, and she forced her eyes open. Wyatt jaw was clenched tightly, his chest was heaving, his breaths coming in and out harshly through his nose. He let out a few choked screams, as if they had gotten in his throat. She brought her glance downwards, guilt flooding her brain as she looked at the wound again. Blood was trickling from the wound, the blue denim already turning a darker shade of purple. 

 

Brown wasted no time, within moments of Lucy turning her head downwards to view the wound, Brown ripped the knife back out of Wyatt's thigh. This time Wyatt made an urgent groan, the sound slipped through his teeth as he clenched his fists, squeezing and then unclasping them. “Alright, Lucy, do you have an answer for me?” 

 

“Fine, if you-” Lucy didn’t have the opportunity to step in---even if she had, she’s not sure what she would have said---before Wyatt threw out the beginning of an insult. 

 

Brown interrupted Wyatt’s insult as he plunged the knife downwards again, the blade sinking into the same leg, a little further up towards Wyatts hips. Wyatt wasn’t able to hold back the scream this time, instead, the pained noise flew out into the air and rang around in Lucy’s ears. She kept watching though. This time, the knife sat still in Wyatts legs for a few moments, perhaps giving him the opportunity to catch his breath or Lucy the opportunity to gaze at the wounds. The first bleeding profusely, the second had blood surrounding the wound, not as much but a substantial amount, nonetheless. 

 

A hand suddenly forced Lucy's chin up, forcing her to stare directly at Brown. She fought the hand, shaking her head back and forth, but it was no use. She looked right into the brown eyes of a man that she wished she could throw into the middle of the ocean for the sharks, or perhaps off a skyscraper in Tokyo, or maybe throw an angered Wyatt at him.Throwing him into a volcano would be suffice as well. She felt nothing but hate and resentment towards the man, and everybody surrounding her in the room. Hate towards the men and the way they took one of the most important things away from her, her freedom to make her own choices. To be able to stand up and walk out the door. To be able to speak. 

 

Her hate towards Wyatt was a different kind of hate. The kind that you only feel when you truly love someone. The kind that made her want to scoop him into her arms and cradle, kissing all the pain away. The kind of hate that truly showed how much she needed him. 

 

Brown pulled the knife out of Wyatts leg, slowly, Wyatts breathing turning into sharp gasps with every sharp cry he let out. Brown brought the knife to point at Lucy, the knife’s blade pressing into the flesh on her nose. Lucy could smell the metallic odor in the air that could only be attributed to the blood that sat on the knife. 

 

“Don’t, don’t you hurt her, asshole.” Wyatt said, his voice husky and choppy. Brown shot Lucy a smirk before he turned back to Wyatt, taking the knife with him. 

 

The two stared each other down for a few, quiet moments, the only noise in the room being the loud gasps that Wyatt took. The force behind the hand holding Lucy’s chin, lessened as the man behind her seemed as engrossed in the events unfolding as she was. 

 

“We’ve come to a sort of impasse, Mr. Logan. You won’t tell me what I want, and she won’t tell me what I want,” Brown pointed lazily back at Lucy with the knife, before turning it back towards Wyatt and resting it gently on his neck. “I’m done playing games.”

 

Brown pressed down on the knife as a phone rang in the room. The captor acted as if he didn't notice, as Lucy watched the man beside her pull out his phone. He stepped away and answered it, curtly, but Lucy wasn’t able to understand what he said as she stared at the blood that was slowly trickling down from  the small nick the knife had created on Wyatts neck, the knife having sliced right through the skin. “I could kill you, right now, but you know what? That would be too easy.”

 

He pulled the knife away from Wyatts throat, and Wyatt swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “If you’re done playing games, why don’t you just do it then?” 

 

Brown smirked, the left side of his mouth raising in a ghoulish way. “I’m giving you one more chance-”

 

“Boss, the feds, they’re at the house, they’ll be here in moments.” The man off to the side, shouted into the room. 

 

Lucy felt her heart pounding, they were so close. So close to escape, and to being able to go home and scream into their pillows about how unfair all of this had been. All they had to do was hold on for another couple of minutes. Lucy looked away from the man with the cellphone, who trotted back to her side. She looked to Wyatt and grimaced at how pale he was, and just how exhausted he seemed to be. His eyes were half open, and his face was swollen and black and blue and purple all over from the beatings. She sent him a reassuring smile, as she watched the cogs turning in his head with the new information. 

 

Brown, however, seemed unaffected by the news as he laid the tip of the knife over the bloody wound in Wyatts chest. It sat there for a few moments. Wyatt winced, and Lucy could hear her own heart beating, like it was trying to jump out of her chest and run out of the door that she couldn't.  _ Soon. Just hang on.  _

 

Brown looked from Wyatt, to Lucy, and then back to Wyatt. “If I’m not leaving, then neither,” Brown began to press down on the knife, and she could see the tip begin to disappear into Wyatts chest, blood trickling downwards from the wound, again, “are,” Brown stopped pushing for a moment bringing his eyes to meet Wyatts, letting his second hand rest on Wyatt’s shoulder. Then, without a second thought, Brown shoved the knife into Wyatts chest, nothing but the hilt left visible after the motion. “You.”

 

Lucy’s scream erupted from her mouth, the scream carrying Wyatt’s name. Wyatt's eyes flew open, then quickly began to flutter. There weren’t any noises coming from his mouth, and Lucy wasn’t sure if that was because she couldn’t hear anything through her own screaming or if he had forgotten how to breathe.

 

The words Lucy had kept pent in all day---or night, whatever the time of day was---were suddenly erupting from her mouth, anywhere from concern for Wyatt, his name in bated breaths and little ‘hold on’s’ and ‘help is almost here’ and then insults towards Brown, and Blue, and Hazel, and Green, and suddenly she was roaring. Her chair was scratching the floor beneath her as she threw herself all around, trying to undo her binds all while tears formed in her eyes, but no one seemed to notice.

 

Brown continued to focus solely on Wyatt, who’s chest was subtly moving under his fingertips. He pushed once more on the knife, making sure that it was truly inserted all the way before he jerked his hand to the left and tore the knife from Wyatt's body. 

 

In that moment, the events in the room slowed to an almost stop. She had stopped struggling herself.

 

Lucy was able to watch the knife that sat loosley in Browns hand clatter to the ground, his own chest rising and falling with exertion. Turning her eyes back to Wyatt, she was startled to see his eyes staring right at her. His expression wasn’t something she could place, one that she had never seen before. It was something between resignation and fear. She held his stare, it was the only thing she could hold as she watched a trickle of blood begin to make its way down his chin. 

 

She felt the door to the room being thrown open, but she was channeled on Wyatt, watching as his eyes began to flutter and his head dropped. 

 

When the eye contact stopped, she turned to the door and was notarchi surprised to see Agent Denise Christopher yelling at the men in the room. Lucy could only see three of the men, two of which were dropping to their stomachs, but Brown was shaking his head, screaming back incoherently. He reached towards Lucy, a gun suddenly in his hands, but the moment the gun began to raise, Lucy heard a deafening bang. Simultaneously she watched Brown suddenly stumble backwards, the gun in his hands dropping as he fell against the back wall. His hand clutching at his shoulder. 

 

Turning back to Christopher, Lucy watched as agents began to flood, one of them making a beeline for herself as Denise ran to help Wyatt. For a moment, Lucy lost sight of Wyatt in the flurry, but it was only temporary as she flung herself from her chair, suddenly having found herself freed. She immediately knelt down by Wyatts side, her knees slapping against the floor beside his chair. 

 

Denise was speaking in low tones to Wyatt, her dark hands pressed flush to the wound on his front. Wyatts chest was fluttering, as his breaths chattered in his lungs. He was staring dazedly at Denise, focused solely on her soothing words. 

 

Wyatts hands swung forward limply as his arms were untied. 

 

Lucy didn’t know what to do. She did know that she was losing her grip on reality, falling into an almost manic state. Tears coated her cheeks as they steadily ran down her face and her own sobs were catching in her chest. She felt a hand on her shoulder trying to pull her back, but she flinched as she shrugged out of it, not wanting to be touched by anyone she couldn’t see or trust for the time being. The hand didn’t return and Lucy felt like she had won a small victory as she placed a shaky hand on Wyatts cheek. “Wyatt?”

 

Wyatt's eyes found hers again, and he smiled a genuine smile, one of the many he had flashed her throughout the day. His teeth showed---blood coating the pearly whites---and she felt nothing but fear in that moment. A stark contrast to the way his smile had comforted her throughout the ordeal.

 

“Lucy, why don’t you hold his head up and straight, until medics get here.” Denise suggested and Lucy wasted no time in placing her other hand on his empty cheek. She cupped her thumbs under his chin and slowly but carefully lifted his head straight. His head moved remarkably easily, his entire body comparable to jello. “Talk to him, Lucy. Keep him with us.”

 

Lucy didn’t know what to say though, so she carefully brushed his cheek with her fingers trying to ignore the swelling that rested below her digits. 

 

“F’ncy seein’ you here.” Wyatt struggled to say, his words escaping on spare breaths. A cough followed, and his eyes slammed shut. Blood flew from his mouth, landing on Lucy's hands and wrists, but she tried to ignore it. Just like she tried to ignore the marks on her wrist that marked her a victim of captivity. His body suddenly began to slump towards her, Denise's’ hands caught him, and held him back and an extra set of hands came up to steady Wyatt's shoulders from behind her. 

 

“Lucy, damn it, keep him awake!” The way the words were expelled from Denise's mouth prompted Lucy onwards. 

 

Lucy continued to rub Wyatt's face as she sat forward on the balls of her feet. “Wyatt?”

 

There wasn't any response, not for a few moments anyways, and in those few moments Lucy felt the dread settle and she stopped moving her fingers, instead she lightly slapped his cheek with her fingers. 

 

“Wyatt, answer me,” she could see sluggish movements from beneath his eyelids as she tapped a few more times harder than before, trying to rouse the man. “Damn it Wyatt, look at me.”

 

For a moment, she didn't expect the man to listen to her, but to her surprise, his eyelids fluttered, and his sapphire blues lazily focused on her. “We didn't make it this far, just for you to quit, do you understand me?” 

 

“Ye-” His response was cut short by another wet cough, more blood coated his lips and trailed down his chin. His eyes slammed shut again, clearly in an immense amount of pain. Quickly, however, his coughs turned to gasps, air suddenly in short supply in the room as Lucy herself could no longer pull air into her lungs. 

 

“Logan, I know it's hard, but I need you to concentrate on breathing,” Denise jumped in, noticing the decline in Wyatt's condition, she turned her head away as she shouted out into the nearly silent room, the only other noises Lucy could hear were Browns moans somewhere behind her, and Wyatt's gasping under her ministrations. “Where are those damn medics? We don't have time!”

 

Wyatt's eyes were open, Lucy noticed suddenly, staring right at her, as his chest heaved underneath him. He seemed more alert than a few moments before, but his eyes still held fear in them, and Lucy's heart broke as she realized that there was nothing she could do now. “I'm so sorry Wyatt, so, so, sorry. Just hang on for a little while longer, and I'm gonna make this up to you.”

 

His mouth curved upwards slightly again, and Lucy wasn't sure if it would be the last time or not, but she once again was unsure how to respond. “I hate goodbyes, and I-I-I,” Her ability to speak suddenly lost its will, and she had to bite her lip to try and continue, “I don’t want to say goodbye to you, do you hear me Wyatt?”

 

She didn't have time to think, she knew that, she just didn’t want him to be afraid. She wanted to try and help him in any way that she could, just like he had helped her. So she drew every comforting thought into her mind that she could think of. Words that now seemed to completely fail her, thoughts that ran rampant in her head, actions but her body wasn't moving. 

 

So instead, Lucy brought herself to a halfstand, leaned her head forward, and pressed a delicate kiss against Wyatt's head. She stayed that way for a moment, hearing the commotion of the medics rushing into the room, before she pulled away. 

 

Wyatt's eyes were shut again, and once again Lucy couldn't breathe. 

 

She looked down at his chest, hoping to see the haphazard way that it had risen and fallen the last few moments, but instead, she saw nothing. She could hear nothing but a slight wheeze coming from his mouth as medics pulled her away from him, but she couldn't find it in her to fight it, instead she fell backwards into the warm, comforting arms of Agent Christopher. 

 

Lucy watched as the medics pressed gauze pads against the wound Wyatts chest. His chest covered in a sheen layer of blood. Handprints were visible above the wound, and looking down at Denise's hands, she knew immediately that they were her handprints. An oxygen mask was placed over Wyatt's mouth and nose as the medics worked with a couple of agents to move him onto a stretcher. Lucy wasn't sure where the brace came from, but somewhere between Lucy looking away and looking back, Wyatt's neck was being held straight by a brace. 

 

As soon as he was lying straight, a tube was slid down his throat and Lucy nearly threw up at the sight. It was funny how normally blood would have her losing control of her stomach, but now, of all occasions, she seemed tolerant of it. 

 

The medics were quick to try and bandage the myriad of other wounds that littered Wyatt’s body, but Lucy could slowly feel her focus shifting from Wyatt, and the medic squeezing air into his lungs, to the other set of medics in the room that were attending to Brown. 

 

Suddenly a rage, that Lucy didn't know she possessed began to flow through her veins, and before she knew what she was doing, her feet were moving and she felt herself lunge at Brown. The events that led up to this moment sat heavy in her thoughts, and she couldn’t stop herself.

 

She had almost reached him before she felt someone, or maybe multiple someones, grab her from behind and pull her back. Arms crossed across her chest pulling Lucy close against the warm body of who ever sat behind her. She struggled, pulling and pushing and swatting and screaming. Nothing comprehensible, but she yelled a primitive howl that displayed her pain for the whole room to hear. She began to see red and black swirl in her vision as the world slowly began to fade. It sounded like she was underwater, she couldn’t make out words or sounds. All she could understand was that there were noises. It was all becoming background.

 

Then she no longer was aware of anything other than the heartache she felt in her chest and the image of Wyatt smiling at her, his teeth wearing his blood and his face wearing the consequences of his actions. The consequences of trading his own life for hers.

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

Denise was half tempted to let Lucy strangle the man, but she also had a duty to uphold and protect the law, which meant she wasn’t allowed to let the younger lady---rightfully so--- hurt the man. Instead, Denise reached towards the young woman and grabbed her from behind and held her tight against her. 

 

She wasn’t prepared for the screams that tore through the air as Lucy cried, her body shaking from a mixture of things that ranged from stress, to anger, to the sobs that ripped through her body. Denise held her tight though, knowing that right now, Lucy had probably just been through one of the most emotionally taxing things in her entire life. 

 

Denise was pretty shocked as well. She had expected torture, she would have been naive to have not. However, when she had stormed into the small cellar, surrounded by agents and SWAT alike, she had felt herself stop short. 

 

She saw her people first, Lucy crying in her chair, strapped in and surrounded by three men. Her screams had helped lead the group of law enforcement right to them. The men immediately surrendered when they had seen the amount of agents that stormed into the room. She could see Wyatt as well, and from the view that she had of him, she could tell something was wrong. From the way his head sat, to the way his posture was. When Denise had seen the leader of the group standing beside Wyatt clearly agitated, Denise began to join in the chorus of shouting. 

 

When he pulled the gun from behind him, Denise fired the shot that embedded itself into the man's shoulder. ““You won’t try that again, will you?” She muttered. 

 

When she had watched him fall to the ground, up against the wall, Denise had rushed to the time travelers in the center of the room, ignoring the chains that hung on the wall, and analyzed the situation quickly.  When she was able to get a good look at Wyatt, and the blood pumping steadily from the wound in his chest, she had made the decision to allow her people to handle the rest of the situation as she immediately began triage on Wyatt. 

 

It hadn’t been enough. 

 

By the time the medics had finally arrived, Wyatt had stopped breathing, and she could barely feel his heart beating beneath her fingers. It was almost like the blood was flowing less severely now, which she knew wasn’t good. Nothing about what had happened here was good. She had done her best to ignore the fact that Wyatt had looked terrible, even without the blood leaking from his body, but when she had pulled herself and Lucy away from Wyatt to allow the medics to work on Wyatt freely, it had almost hit her like a slap in the face. Again.

 

The bruises, the blood, the marks on his body. He had been through hell. 

 

She had to tear her eyes away from Wyatt to look Lucy over, the woman and her condition almost forgotten in all the chaos. Denise was relieved to see that there didn't appear to be any outward injuries, but she also knew that it wasn’t just the physical scars that a situation like this caused. It was what they couldn’t see that would leave Lucy lying awake at night, reminding herself over and over again that what happened to her was over. That she was safe now.

 

Lucy rushing Brown though, Denise hadn’t expected that. 

 

She held Lucy for a minute or two before she finally began to calm down, soon the screaming stopped, and the kicking and flailing followed. It didn’t take long for Lucy to grow limp in her arms. 

 

Denise called the spare pair of medics over, and allowed them to help Lucy’s prone body onto a stretcher. It took them a few moments to look over for any glaring injuries, before they began to wheel her from the room as well. Denise prepared herself to follow, knowing that her people were more than capable to secure the crime scene while she escorted Lucy to the hospital, but when she reached the door, she turned to the perps that all sat against the wall, hands cuffed behind them. “You all will rot in prison, but if either one of those two die, I will personally stick you with the needle that ends your life.”

 

She watched three of the faces fall before she looked at the leader, who looked back at her with a look of pained bemusement. “I hope it was worth it.” She directed towards him, and quickly walked away, not wanting to remain in the building any longer than she had to. 

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

They had made good time to the hospital, the sirens obviously attributing partly. By the time they had gotten there, the medics had deduced that nothing was wrong with Lucy besides a mild case of dehydration. They assumed that the stress of the situation was most likely why she had passed out though. It was just assumed that her system had went into shock.

 

When Denise had asked for an opinion on Wyatt, she received a sheltered response. When she pushed again, she learned that the medic had seen it go both ways before with injuries as serious as those that Wyatt had suffered, but more times than not it wouldn’t end well. She did say that she was sorry for her honesty, but Denise regretted asking the question anyways. 

 

When they arrived in the ER Lucy was whisked away to be admitted, and Denise had placed a phone call, informing an agent back at the federal building to escort Rufus here. He was probably antsy and more anxious than when she had left him in the office. 

 

She had asked about Wyatt on multiple occasions from multiple people, before she was directed to a surgical waiting room. Once there, a nurse had informed Denise that Wyatt had been rushed straight to surgery, and he wasn’t expected to be finished anytime soon. The nurse offered her some coffee from the break room, but Denise knew better. Break room coffee was break room coffee, no matter where you were. 

 

When Rufus had arrived, she filled him in on almost everything that had happened--leaving out a few of the more  _ menial  _ details, like the fact that one of his best friends was sitting at death's door. She did inform him that Lucy was upstairs unconscious, sleeping off the worst days of her life. When given the choice of where he wanted to go sit, he chose Lucy. His reasoning being that he just wanted to hold her hand and be thankful that they had them back. It was easier to believe that when he wasn’t in an empty room. 

 

Denise allowed him to go sit with her as she made arrangements for a doctor to come find her when Wyatt was finished with surgery, letting the nurse on the surgical floor know that she would be with Lucy when they came to find her.

 

Instead of heading to Lucy and Rufus, Denise found an empty hallway a floor down. Somewhere within the pediatrics unit, where there were drawings of hope and love written all over the walls, she checked her watch. 

 

It had been less than twenty four hours, but they had been some of the most intense hours of her life. She was tired, and quite frankly, she was scared. She had grown to appreciate, and further more enjoy the presence that the trio had in her life now. While the circumstances weren’t great, she appreciated the fact that she was able to have met them. 

 

She felt a weight settle on her shoulders as she set her back against the wall, and slowly slid to the floor. She rested her head on her knees as she tried to settle all the emotions in head. She knew that right now, those emotions weren’t going to help anything but she was tired. Wearily she tried to clear her thoughts. Instead she felt one tear slide down her face and then another. 

 

She wasn’t too sure as to why. Maybe it was the relief that she was able to bring them home? Or maybe it was the sympathy that she felt towards the pair? Or the anger she felt towards Anthony and his fellowship? Whatever it was, she allowed herself to feel it, not needing to be anywhere in particular in that moment. So she stayed where she was. 

 

She wasn’t sure how long that moment dragged on. One moment she was staring into the backs of her eyelids, allowing herself some precious rest, and the next she could feel her phone vibrating from its spot in her lap. Judging by the way her body creaked when she stretched herself from her position, she could only imagine that she had been sitting there for a while. 

 

She looked down at the texts from the agent she left in charge, and was pleased that Anthony was downstairs and ready to be released into custody and that he would be in a jail cell at the end of the night. Looking at the time, she realized she’d been sitting there for a couple of hours. 

 

She pushed herself up and made her way to Lucy’s room. When she walked in, Rufus stood from the chair quickly to address her but she threw out her hand, “Sit down Rufus, it’s been a long day.”

 

Rufus nodded quietly before being seated. Denise settled into the chair across the bed from his own. “Have we heard anything about Wyatt?” Rufus inquired, leaning back in his chair, his feet tapping against the floor in a comforting rhythm. 

 

“I haven’t heard anything, but they should be coming up here as soon as the surgery is done. Lucy wake up yet?” Rufus shrugged his shoulders. 

 

“She kept mumbling Wyatts name and crying and sort of waking up, half lucid, doctors say we shouldn’t expect her to wake up until tomorrow. They gave her some sedatives to try and relax her.” Rufus settled his hand on Lucy’s and squeezed. “They went through hell, didn’t they”

 

Denise nodded in confirmation as Rufus shook his head and rubbed his face with his free hand, letting his fingers massage his temple. “I keep thinking that I should have been there with them. I just-”

 

“Rufus, this isn’t your fault anymore than it is mine. Are you blaming me for this?” 

 

Rufus threw his hand down in exasperation. “Of course not -”

 

“Then stop. Lucy needs us both to be there for her, and Wyatt needs us to be there for him.  _ We  _ can not pity ourselves over the fact that we could have stopped it. Because we couldn’t have. Do you understand me?”

 

The lack of response from Rufus had Denise assuming that he had gotten the point, so she settled into her chair, knowing that no news was good news in terms of Wyatts condition. The longer they were operating, it just meant that Wyatt was still clinging to life. 

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

Denise must have slipped into her thoughts again, the sharp rap on the door pulling her from them as she rose, a sharp looking doctor walking into the room. She could see Rufus rise from his own chair as the doctor acknowledged both of them. “Wyatt Logan’s friends and family?”

 

Denise raised a hand, “I’m his power of attorney.”

 

The doctor nodded again, and took in a deep breath. “He’s alive, which at this point, is a miracle in itself.” 

 

Denise felt the weight that sat on her shoulders slowly begin to dissipate as she took in a deep breath. She sensed the ‘ _ but _ ’ hanging in the air, so she allowed the man to continue before saying anything. 

 

“I don’t know if either of you were aware of the extent of the trauma that he went through, but it was severe.” The doctor added on, seemingly preparing the pair for the news. 

 

“I imagine there’s a list here?” Rufus asked, rounding to the foot of Lucy’s bed to stand side by side with Denise, his hands shoved deep into his front pockets. 

 

“Quite a sizeable one. Mr. Logan is incredibly lucky to be alive right now. When he was brought in, he wasn’t able to breathe on his own anymore, whether it be from strain on his lungs or he might have just been too tired to continue on his own. Regardless, by the time he had arrived here, he had already been intubated.” Denise could feel Rufus stiffen beside her, and suddenly realized that she had forgotten to include the part where ‘Wyatt wasn’t breathing’ when she had recapped with him earlier. 

 

“Obviously, we had the stab wound to deal with, which created a hemothorax. When we began to work on that, we realized that he had a fluid buildup in his lungs--”

 

“Pneumonia?” Rufus asked, cutting the doctor off mid explanation.

 

The doctors expression was slowly morphing into that of sympathy as he shook his head gently. “Not exactly. He was drowning in his own lungs. It's not uncommon that we see it in patients who had almost drown, but had been rescued. Its referred to as Secondary Drowning, but I doubt Mr. Logan was doing any swimming?” The doctor questioned, seemingly searching for answers of his own.

 

Denise thought about it for a moment, going over the scene in her mind and realized that she had seen rags and a couple empty gallons of water in a bag in the house. “Would waterboarding do it?”

 

It was almost like a lightbulb had went off over the doctors head, and Denise realized that Rufus was staring at her in horror. “Yes, that would certainly be the reason for it, regardless, we had to drain the fluid from his lungs while also trying to clear his chest cavity of blood that would have been caused by the stab wound. He was sent up to surgery almost immediately after he arrived.”

 

“We had to do a couple of things to help him out. For the hemothorax we had to drain the blood in the chest cavity, for the fluids in the lungs, we had to drain the fluid in his lungs. He also had two stab wounds to the upper leg, both of which we had to irrigate and then furthermore patch those up. Fortunately those wounds didn’t effect either the bone or any of the arteries. There was some muscle damage but that will heal over time.” The doctor paused for breath and rubbed his forehead with his slender hand. “I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did, honestly, and at this point it's all up to him. The next couple of days will be crucial, but as his power of attorney, I think you need to consider a few things-”

 

“Wait, hold on, no. If his heart stops, you guys will restart it!” Rufus spoke up, as if the words just spoken had upset him more than everything else said. “No DNR’s, no debating whether he should be an organ donor or not, just make sure he survives. Make sure that my friend lives!”   
  
Denise looked uncomfortably down at the ground before she turned to Rufus, clutching his hand tightly. “I don't want to think about it anymore than you want to, but at what point does the 'quality over quantity’ rule kick in?”   
  
Rufus pulled his hand away, as if she'd burned him with her touch. “That's not our decision to make.” He seethed, his voice lower than before. “Let him make that decision.”   
  
Denise shot the man a sympathetic look before turning back to the doctor. “I assume he is in no position to make decisions for himself based on what you've told us?”

 

She asked, but she would be lying if she didn't think she would be scared of the answer. 

 

“Due to the extensive injuries in his chest, he's currently on a ventilator to give his body a break and a chance to heal.” The doctor, looked like he had more to say but stopped, staring hesitantly at Rufus before turning back to Denise. “He's in a medically induced coma, and right now, it's all touch and go.” 

 

She could hear Rufus take a sharp breath as Denise herself felt her heart plummet. 

 

“Anything else? Can we see him?” Rufus finally squeaked. His voice sounding a little further away than before. Denise turned and was surprised to find him holding Lucy’s hand again. 

 

“Not really. At this point, we have him on a broad range of antibiotics to try and ward off any chance of pneumonia and other chest illnesses, but that's always a guessing game trying to protect against a certain strain.” The doctor checked his watch. “He's probably being situated up in the ICU right around now if you two want to follow me?”

 

Denise glanced once at Lucy and then to Rufus, who nodded his head eagerly. “Why don't you go ahead, I'll stay here with Lucy?” Denise suggested softly, and Rufus reacted just as Denise expected. He was torn, but knowing someone was going to be with Lucy, it made the decision just a bit easier. 

 

The doctor nodded, “Follow me, I’ll take you to him.”

 

Denise say back down before she caught the doctors eyes. “How long will he be in the coma and on the ventilator?”

 

The doctor offered a solemn shrug. “It varies from patient to patient. With the extent of his injuries, I'd say no sooner than a week. If there are complications, even minor ones, I'd say there is a fair chance that he might never wake up.” 

 

“Thank you.” Denise stated, as she turned her full attention to Lucy, waiting for the men to exit the room before she allowed herself to clutch Lucy’s hand. Bowing her head downwards as she tried to digest all the information. 

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

Rufus followed the doctor through corridors and halls, knowing that nothing was the same, but it all looked that way. They hopped on the elevator, and went up a floor past the operating rooms. They walked out of the elevators, took a left, and were immediately walking into what Rufus could only assume was the ICU. 

 

The last time he had been in a hospital had been when he had broken his arm. It hadn’t been a bad break, he didn’t even need surgery. Instead they wrapped a cast on it and sent him on his way. 

 

This was brand new territory. 

 

The doctor stopped and turned to the nurse sitting at the desk. “Karen, this is a friend of mister Logan, I imagine he will probably be here often the next few days.”

 

Rufus dragged his attention away and looked to the woman who had stood and offered him a hand, a warm smile on her slim features, her hair bouncing in curls on her hands. Rufus latched into her dark hand, “Rufus. You’ll have to forgive me for being a little spacy.”

 

“Oh of course, I’ve never met a family member or friend that has come up here and been happy to be here.” Rufus couldn’t believe it, he actually felt a smile creep onto his lips as the nurse pulled her hand away and looked down at a chart below her on the desk. “Mister Logan is right this way if you guys want to follow me?”

 

“I’m actually going to step away, I’ll be back to check up on him later.” The doctor shot her a warm smile and then turned to Rufus. “I hope you’re friend makes it.”

 

“I hope so too.”

 

The doctor walked away as Rufus followed the nurse a few paces down the hall. The door to the room was open and Rufus could see right in. He stopped abruptly, not sure if he could venture further into the room without losing the little food he had left in his stomach. The nurse, Karen, laid her hand on his arm comfortingly. “It’s never easy seeing a friend like this.”

 

Rufus smiled a crooked smile. “He’s one of those people who won’t stop for anything except to sleep. Just a constant flow of energy. I’ve seen him hurt before, but never like this.”

 

“Tell me about him?” The nurse asked, allowing Rufus the few moments to compose himself. 

 

Rufus thought about his answer for a minute before his smile dropped. “He’s lost almost everything in his life that he has ever cared about, but he’s one of the most giving, and selfless people. He even forgave me for betraying him once.” Rufus grimaced at the memory. “He’d save everyone else before he ever thought about saving himself.”

 

“He sounds like a hero.”

 

“He is.” Rufus answered, almost in a trance. 

 

“What do you say we walk in there, together, and make sure he knows that he’s not alone.” Karen suggested, running her hand up and down Rufus’s arm comfortingly. 

 

Rufus glanced into the room, only getting a glimpse of Wyatt before lowering his gaze again. “Yea, lets,” he looked up again, his gaze set on Wyatts prone figure. “let’s do it.”

 

“It's tough, but I’m right here every step of the way.”

 

Rufus didn’t trust himself to thank her as they walked into the room, slowly. It was only a few steps, but to Rufus, it seemed to take forever. 

 

Once he got a decent look at Wyatt though, time seemed to speed up, almost too quickly. He gripped the chair beside the bed for support and fell into it with a muffled ‘hoomf.’

 

Wyatt was pale, or at least the parts of him that weren’t covered in red, black, and blue marks. Half of his face alone was covered in bruises, and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut. He had obviously been the recipient of a vicious beating. His mouth was closed, aside from the tube that snaked out the center, being held in place by a foam strap that wrapped around his head. Rufus assumed that was the ventilator. 

 

Looking a little further down Rufus felt his weak stomach clamp at the tube that was sticking from Wyatt’s chest, leading to a machine off to the side somewhere. Rufus allowed himself a moment to collect himself, the sight of Wyatts chest wrapped in layers of bandage covering a wound too heinous for Rufus to even speculate about. He didn't allow himself to linger on the bandage that was taped to the side of his neck either. He quickly soaked in the rest of Wyatts appearance. His leg was bandaged heavily above the knee. His wrists were bandaged similarly to Lucy’s as well.

 

It was only once he swept his eyesight back up his body, taking in the cords and tubes that disappeared in every which direction, that Rufus realized that Agent Christopher hadn’t exactly been entirely forthcoming in her explanation about how bad off Wyatt was. 

 

The noises of the machinery all around him were lulling him into a trance. The nurses gentle squeeze of his shoulder startled him though. He cleared his throat and looked up at her, “I work in the tech industry and I don’t know what a single one of these machines do.” The smile he offered was sad, but the nurse squeezed his shoulder again. A warming smile still sitting on her lips. 

 

“Give me a bit to do my rounds, and I’ll come back and give you the best explanation I can. How’s that sound?”

 

Rufus nodded his head, turning back to his friend. “I’d like that, thank you.”

 

The nurse didn’t bother with a response as she excused herself from the room. 

 

**~T-I-M-E-L-E-S-S~**

 

Day one ended in Rufus learning about every piece of equipment in Wyatt room before he was booted. Apparently people in conditions like Wyatt had a bedtime. He finished his day in Lucy’s room. He fell asleep pretty late that night, some time after Denise disappeared. 

 

She was gone most of the night, making it back just before the sun rose with a coffee in hand. Denise was in the same clothes as before, but Rufus didn’t comment on the fact. Instead, Rufus accepted the coffee greedily as he counted down the moments until he could go back up to the ICU while also keeping a close eye on Lucy. 

 

When the time rolled around, Denise offered to go sit with Wyatt for a bit, and Rufus accepted. He gripped Lucy’s hand tightly until she startled awake a few minutes past noon. 

 

There wasn’t much of a conversation at first. Rufus didn’t push her to talk and she didn’t ask any questions. Instead she held tightly to Rufus’s hand as she stared at the ceiling. She only began to make a conversation once lunch was wheeled into her. 

 

She ate like she hadn’t eaten in days. 

 

She didn’t ask about Wyatt until she was discharged later that night. Rufus wasn’t sure why, but wasn’t going to push the topic. Instead, he had ended up wheeling her to the ICU that night. The two of them excused Denise while they sat with Wyatt for a bit. Neither were really interested in talking. 

 

Day two ended with Rufus explaining every piece of machinery to Lucy. Allowing her to get lost in the information instead of the sight before her. Once again Rufus was kicked out, this time with Lucy at his side. 

 

She didn’t want to go to her place that night, so they both headed to Rufus’s. 

 

They slept in surprisingly enough. Apparently hospitals were good for draining the energy out of someone. When Rufus had risen at eleven in the afternoon, with Lucy already fumbling around in the kitchen, his first thoughts were of Wyatt. Lucy was in the same headspace. She had shoved breakfast at Rufus and demanded to be driven to the hospital. She wanted to be there when Wyatt woke up. 

 

Rufus didn’t want to be the one to tell her it was next to impossible that he would be awake that day.Rufus also didn’t want to leave Wyatt all alone the entire day.

 

They hadn’t been sitting with Wyatt for more than an hour when something changed. His temperature began to rise dramatically, and his vitals shifted from stable to unsteady to critical. The doctors and nurses kicked the pair out when they had all rushed in to try and save Wyatts life. Again. 

 

Denise showed up sometime in the hours that followed. She took one look at the pair waiting out in the hallway beside Wyatts room, and headed straight for the nearest nurse she could find. In the ten minutes that she had been in the hospital, Denise was able to find out more information that in the few hours that Rufus and Lucy had been waiting. 

 

Apparently the antibiotics that Wyatt had been on had been a miss. Fluid had built up in his lungs again, this time from a nasty case of double pneumonia. They were starting another round of antibiotics and hoped it would help. They had also been trying to stop the fever from rising any further, and so far, no luck. 

 

They weren’t allowed to see Wyatt the rest of that night. Rufus and Lucy didn't leave the hospital that night though, instead they sat vigil in a waiting room Karen had directed them towards, telling them that she would find them if anything happened. 

 

Something did happen, and Wyatts heart stopped again that night. 

 

The doctor came out with Karen and told them the news. He told them that they had been able to revive him and that they had finally gotten his fever to plateau. His temperature sat at one hundred and three, but he was confident that it would begin to decline shortly. 

 

He also reminded them that they still weren’t sure if Wyatt would be able to make it. 

 

They were able to see him again in the morning, his fever had dropped to one hundred and one by the time they had walked in. They must have fallen asleep some time that afternoon. Both of them woke up to a bag of food and a drink nearby. 

 

No one tried kicking them out that night. Or any night after that. 

 

The week benchmark rolled around and the doctor had approached them. He suggested that they begin to try and wean him off the ventilator, not wanting him to become dependent on it. They had also begun the process of trying to rouse him from the coma. Lucy and Rufus were warned that it could be a couple of days before he was lucid. As long as everything when according to plan. 

 

It was only after ten days, after the ventilator had been replaced with an oxygen mask, and the chest tubes had been removed. After the bandages were slowly becoming smaller and less bulky. After the swelling began to reveal Wyatts face again (albeit littered in healing bruises.) After he began twitching. It was only after all of that, did Lucy and Rufus truly believe that he was going to make it. His doctors started to believe it too.

 

Day eleven, his eyes opened. 

 

It didn’t last long, but it was long enough. He gazed around the room, and had squeezed Lucy’s hand that sat nestled in his, a light smile resting on his face, hidden by the oxygen mask. But Lucy could see the smirk on his face. Unlike the last time she had seen it, this time it sent a warm sense of comfort through a body. A feeling that she hadn’t felt since the bar. 

 

Lucy had jumped from her seat and leaned over Wyatts face, trying to get a glimpse of the eyes that she had missed. She didn’t realize her own eyes had teared up until it blurred her own vision. When Wyatt’s eyes landed on her own, Lucy let out a wet chuckle. 

 

“So tell me something, mister Logan. What is a good looking guy like you, doing in a place like this?”

 

He squeezed her hand a little tighter, his smile growing before his eyes fluttered shut again, and he fell back into his slumber. She pressed her lips tightly against his forehead, grateful for the warmth that she felt below them.

 

She pulled away and sat back in her seat, looking across the bed at Rufus. Her smile still plastered to her face.

 

They had made it. 

 

They had their scars, and they weren't’ likely to forget it anytime soon, but they made it. 

 

Lucy almost couldn’t believe it. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Also, apparently I did things in here that aren't exactly credible or even medically accurate. #sorrynotsorry!
> 
> And if y'all caught that Star Wars reference, I love you, one hundred percent. I couldn't stop myself personally.
> 
> Well, you guys should know the drill by now, if you like it, hit me up and let me know what you think!
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely and continued support!
> 
> ~Tay


End file.
